Strange Gesture
by Jai the Dwarf
Summary: May be too tame to call PG, but just in case...Gimli doesn't understand this strange gesture. Implied pre-slash, GL.
1. Default Chapter

Tolk equals god. Me equals not Tolk.

Strange Gesture

The serving girl leaned over a bit too far as she filled his wine glass. She winked flirtatiously and stroked his ear as she strut back to the kitchens. The nearly-crowned new king did not notice, but Gimli was surprised to see the Elf's cheeks color. But the frown on his face and the way he roughly brushed the ear with his sleeve seemed to contradict the possibility of Legolas blushing.

Gimli grumbled something about saucy kitchen help. His voice rang with joviality, though strained, perhaps with drink, but his expression was lost beneath his thick beard. Aragorn made a quick quip about Elves inspiring such attention.

The meal was winding down. The trio came to the pleasant realization that, no longer rushing from campfire to battle to campfire, they would not be sleeping in the rain, but in soft beds with blankets and bolsters. Aragorn, with a smile, bid his companions goodnight.

Gimli and Legolas fell into step with each other, one lengthening his stride while the other shortened his. Of habit they walked beside each other to the same room, and reached for the handle at the same time. They seemed then to realize that they need not room together. Gimli firmly ignored this realization and, opening the door, beckoned Legolas inside.

The room was a bit chill, the hearth having only a small fire, so Gimli stoked it and added some wood. "I did not think you one to blush over a maid," Gimli said heartily.

"I am unaccustomed to such...familiar gestures," Legolas replied carefully.

"I touch you all the time," Gimli answered easily, sitting on the foot of the bed. He motioned for Legolas to sit in front of him.

"Yes, but that girl has not fought beside me and earned my respect and friendship," he responded lightly, sitting with his back to Gimli and facing the fire. Gimli's hands automatically started unplaiting the long hair before him. "Nor do you stroke my ears," he added very quietly.

"If you trying to challenge my curiosity," Gimli grinned, "I must admit, I'm quite tempted."

Legolas turned to face him, eyes slightly wider than usual. Gimli looked into those eyes for some sign of permission. He found there hesitation, but not outright denial. So he reached out and lightly traced one pointed ear.

Legolas drew in a sharp breath, his face starting a slow burn. Gimli retraced the very tip, listening to the hitched breath in fascination. He raised his other hand to stroke the other ear. This seemed to bring Legolas to himself, and he pulled away embarrassed.

"My apologies, friend-" Gimli started, but was quickly cut off.

"No, I-" Legolas did not seem to know how to finish, and, perhaps more flustered by this, stood quickly, facing away. "I bid you goodnight, friend Gimli," he said, his voice full of chagrin.

He slipped quietly out of the room as Gimli followed with his eyes. It had not occurred to the Dwarf that Legolas would actually choose to sleep in the room assigned him. For the long journey from the golden wood, seldom had he slept more than a few feet from his Elven friend.

He didn't understand the reaction, but understood less his own fascination. But they would discuss it in the morning. Surely, the only damage this strange gesture had caused would be a restless, lonesome night.


	2. chapter 2

Well, this was originally going to be a one-shot, but it got such good reviews, I figured what the hey. Also, I'm not trying to be mean to anyone in this fic...actions and words will be explained later.

Strange Gesture, Chapter two

Gimli got up when dawn finally broke, though he had slept little. Sluggishly, he set about washing, dressing, combing, and plaiting. He grumbled grouchily about not being able to see the back of his head, knowing his braid was sloppily lopsided. Finally dressed and ready, he sought out a morning meal. When we wondering into the room where the last night's dining had taken place, the sons of Elrond were chatting mirthfully with Legolas, who averted his eyes when he saw Gimli.

"So the wench touched your ear?" Elladan asked with amused disbelief.

"Really brother, wench?" Elrohir chided his twin. "I'm sure it's just a cultural misunderstanding. She simply didn't know."

"If I were you," Elladan said to Legolas in a slyly conspiratorial voice, "I would invite her for a little 'cultural exchange'."

"Thranduil's son is a gentleman," Elrohir said pointedly, "unlike Elrond's."

Affecting a wide-eyed shock, Elladan replied, "Elrond's son? Elrohir, are you saying that you've been wenching?"

The other Elves groaned, Elrohir muttering something about 'if Mother could hear you...'

Gimli sat listening quietly, not quite understanding. His sleepless night left him ill-disposed to riddling through the conversation, and even less disposed to dealing with the more energetic of Elrond's sons. Perhaps Elladan noticed this, for turning from the others, he called, "So, Master Dwarf, what is your kin's opinion of wenching?"

"I'm sure their opinion mirrors that of respectable Elves," Elrohir answered.

Gimli was ready to catch some jest, wary of many years of patronizing Elves. He took some comfort that Legolas was glaring angrily at Elladan. "My people do not wench."

"Dwarves, at least, have some self-respect," Elrohir supplied.

"Don't wench? At all?" Elladan prodded.

"We take but one mate. To do otherwise is to dishonor oneself, one's clan, one's mate and even love itself."

"Not even if the wench stroked your ear?"

"Elladan, kindly behave," his brother scolded.

Gimli paused for a moment, looking curiously at Legolas. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Legolas stood up quickly and left. Neither of the twins seemed eager to explain, Elladan realizing somewhat belatedly that he had overstepped some boundary. Gimli took only a moment to look each in the eye before standing and following after Legolas.


	3. chapter 3

Strange Gesture, Chapter 3

"Legolas, lad," Gimli called down the hallway.

Legolas slowed for a moment, searching for some exit, but finding none finally stopped. When Gimli caught up, he found the Elf staring intently at the floor. Legolas fidgeted under the scrutiny. "Come, friend," Gimli beckoned, "let us step outside for fresh air." Legolas matched his step towards the courtyard, eyes still cast downward, then suddenly stopped and followed slightly behind. Gimli raised an eyebrow and slowed to match his pace. At last, they reached the arched doorway to the courtyard.

Legolas walked to a tree and let his hand trail along the bark. Gimli grinned, "I thought you might prefer a few trees."

Legolas looked up as he spoke, but quickly averted his gaze again. "Thank you." He breathed deeply and leaned against the strong trunk. After a moment, he mumbled, "I...apologize for Elladan's behavior. He meant no offense. Elves believe that to mate is to marry. As much as he speaks of it, Elladan is still a bachelor."

"Ah, yes, of course," Gimli waved his hand dismissingly, "often young Beornings boast like that. I'm sure Elrond's son is quite honorable."

Legolas sat at the tree's base, running his hand through the grass. He had relaxed and was murmuring a soft, melancholy song.

After a moment of listening, Gimli carefully approached the subject they both knew they must discuss, "My friend, I fear I have somehow hurt our friendship, and do not know how to mend it."

"Our friendship is fine," Legolas insisted.

"Then why will you not look me in the eye?" he replied softly. "Tell me what I have done."

"No, Gimli, it is my fault," Legolas said guiltily. "The blame is mine, and I will mend it."

"It matters little who claims the blame. Axe or arrow, a wound cannot heal without being tended," Gimli said, crouching near. He looked into the Elf's eyes, seeing desperation and crumbling resolve. "What does it mean?"

"Please," Legolas whispered, "Ask anything of me, but don't pursue this."

Stern and curious as he was, Gimli found himself unable to withstand the plea. He looked soberly into the Elf's eyes and merely nodded. "Of course, my friend, as you will." But he could not tear his gaze away from the pointed ear.

Legolas shifted self-consciously.

"I should go," Gimli said, trying to hurriedly find an excuse. "I... I have much to do, with Aragorn's wedding approaching so quickly." He tore his eyes away from Legolas and left.


	4. chapter 4

A/N: Nothing like final papers to inspire you to write anything but final papers.

Strange Gesture, Chapter 4

Gimli wandered aimlessly through the hallways, letting his mind wander as well. To press the issue would damage their friendship, but to ignore it would only allow it to fester. If he asked someone, he would be going back on his work. The only course would be to puzzle everything out himself, but he did not know where to start in the whirlwind of senseless images.

Wenches and serving maids. Blushes and gasps. Courtyards and trees. Breaking ties and sleepless nights. Bachelors and weddings. Elves and ears.

The too-real prospect of losing his friendship with the Elf disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice young Pippin until he had nearly tripped over him.

"My apologies, lad," Gimli mumbled.

"No, I wasn't watching where I was going either," Pip answered dismissingly. "Gimli," he started carefully, his voice full of concern, as he continued walking. I had no real destination and fell into step with him. "Do you know what has happened to Legolas?"

"You sound as if he had suddenly taken ill! I promise you, lad, that I just left him in the courtyard, fit as a fiddle."

His face brightened quite a bit. "Oh thank goodness. The way the sons of Elrond were talking I feared he was quite ill. One spoke of bringing Aragorn in to help with something about his ears. The other may a joke about them falling off!"

Another piece of a puzzle that already overwhelmed his brain. "Elvish folly, lad, Elvish folly." But the gruff outburst softened to a gentle, melancholy, "No, he is not ill."

"Gimli, what is wrong with him?" Pip asked, curiously.

"You ask the wrong person," Gimli shook his head sadly. "I never know what thoughts fly through that Elvish head of his." He sighed, paused, the contemplatively started again, "Maybe he is mad at me. I might have done something against some Elvish custom I don't know about. Or maybe he's embarrassed at the way the son of Elrond was teasing him. Maybe he's just sensitive about his ears?"

Pippin played a sounding board quite well, listening intently. Truthfully, he just hoped to somehow make sense of what was said.

Gimli slowly wound down, throwing out ideas one by one, none of which ever quite fit with all the details and nuances. Five minutes of babbling to the poor confused Hobbit had only made him more determined to discover the meaning of that strange gesture.

The hour tolled, and Pippin excused himself to go to his post for watch. 'Already eight o'clock?' Gimli puzzled. However much he had used the wedding as an excuse, surely he did have much to do before noon. His gifts to the new King and his bride still required a bit of work on the details, and he would trust no servant to see that his armor and boots were properly cleaned and polished before the ceremony. With a sigh, he wandered to the oppressive loneliness of his room.


End file.
